A Star is Born
by stella maynard
Summary: On a warm night in May 1893, there were two storms around the Blythe household. One brought buckets of rain, the other a beautiful baby boy. A truly special night.


Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish, these characters will always belong to L.M. Montgomery and not me.  The only thing that belongs to me is the idea.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

            Anne Blythe was sitting in her bedroom, gazing out her window at the clouds gathering in the distance.

            It was a rather hot and humid day – too much so for May in Canada.  Anne was sitting by the open window, hoping for a breeze to enter and ease her discomfort.  She gazed at the clouds and wished that the storm would hurry up and come, instead of just staying in her line of sight and taunting her.

            She couldn't even do much of anything – no gardening, no cooking – only knitting.  And one can only do so much knitting a day, you know!

            Two weeks.  That was how long she had been knitting for now.  The stork was supposed to have delivered the baby two weeks ago.  Gilbert had said it was normal for babies to come late, but Anne was nervous.  Joyce and Jem hadn't taken this long.  She felt the baby kick and thought, _'Are you planning on gracing us with your presence anytime soon, my dear child?'_

            As Anne sat gazing out the window, she saw the clouds starting to come nearer, creeping closer and closer to Ingleside.

            "Gilbert!" Anne called.

            A brown head popped into the room.  Gilbert was always nearby now.  "Yes, Anne-girl?"

            "I'm hungry.  Is dinner going to be ready soon?"  Anne questioned her husband, smiling.

            Gilbert dropped a kiss on his beloved's head.  "I'll go check with Susan and then I'll come right back."

            Anne heard him pounding down the stairs.  All of a sudden, she was feeling tired and wanted to lie down.  She got up from her chair by the window to go to her bed.

            But something happened to prevent her from taking a rest.  She put her hands on her stomach.

            "Gilbert!!!" rang through the house, followed by a flash of lightening and a clap of thunder outside.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that night…

*~*~*~*

            Anne was holding in her arms her newest love – a tiny baby boy christened Walter Cuthbert Blythe.

            Both storms had passed.  The rainstorm outside had been fierce, but in its aftermath, cooled down Glen St. Mary to a pleasantly fresh and clear night perfect for May 24, 1893.  The storm that had raged in Ingleside had left a precious child in its wake.

            The nurse had told Anne that Walter was to have black hair and gray eyes.  The mother was puzzled, but decided it did not matter that he did not look like either of his parents.

            "Perhaps this means that you, my dear boy, are to be different from the rest of us, your family.  Different in a special way.  Maybe you will be a prime minister meant for a life of politics.  Or a dreamer destined for beauty and renown.  Or a doctor, like your father, who will cure the sicknesses in the world.  But whatever you are to be, I will love you ever so much…Why, hello, Gilbert."

            Gilbert had just reentered the room after cleaning up.  He regarded his wife with happiness as she looked upon the newest addition to their happy family.  He helped her to the chair by the window so she could look out into the clear, cloudless night.

"Do you see that star there, Anne?  Right above that great oak tree?" Gilbert asked, pointing out the particular star.             

"Yes… What of it?"

            "Well, my dear, it wasn't there last night.  Remember how we noticed how the stars to the right of it formed a crown and to the left there was a bow?  That star wasn't there before.  Isn't it beautiful?" 

            "Well…yes, it is…but nothing compared to the star that is in my arms right now, Gilbert, darling."

            As Anne and Gilbert gazed down on their little son Walter, through the open window came the sound of a flute.  Someone was piping a bewitching little tune of joy and sorrow intermingled.  But, at the moment, neither Anne nor Gilbert heard the music that was to control their fate and the fate of millions of others in the years to come.  Tonight, they were happy and content.  Tonight, the world was made just for them and Walter.

THE END

A/N: Hello, everybody.  Okay, well, I think that story was a little strange, but who cares?  That's the way it came to me.  And just so you know, I don't really have any idea when Walter was born.  I figured he must have been born around 1893.  And I thought he ought to be born in May, because, you know, "April showers bring May flowers" and I think Walter would be born at a time full of beauty.  But if you happen to know when he was actually born, just pretend with me.  ;-)  Please review!


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